A Big Brother's Duty
by Giselle d'Angouleme
Summary: Len has always been a level-headed person; or at least he is more level-headed than his sister, who is more level-headed than most people, but pales in the light of his level-headedness. A collection of platonic sibling drabbles.
1. A Brother's Duty

A Big Brother's Duty  
><em>For <em>_**kagaminevii**__. Sorry, this is as far as I can go for RinxLen._

Len has always been a level-headed person; or at least he is more level-headed than his sister, who is more level-headed than most people, but pales in the light of his level-headedness.

Yes. That's a word.

While his sister, who shall remain nameless, is spinning around like a maniac in front of him, enthusing about her last date with some boy he absolutely has no personal interest in, he is starting to believe that his real sister may have been switched away from him at birth.

That sentence is long. Shut up. Read it.

Never mind the fact that they're identical twins. But that's life.

And his sister is still happily recounting to him her amorous adventure with her latest flavor of the...week, is it? "And we went to watch that movie, that one with the magic and the snake and the dead people and GNO MY GOD that one dude ended up _BALD_!" Spin. Spin. Giggle. Spin.

You know what? Forget about his earlier assessment of his sister's character. She is not level-headed at all. Len always hates it when his sister gets this way over a stupid boy that isn't, well, Len. She should only be this happy because of him, not because some other boy takes her to watch that stupid movie with the stupid magic and the stupid snake and the stupid dead people. But is he mentally kicking himself for telling her he will never go to see that ridiculous movie? Yes. This could have been him she is giggling about.

"Then we went to the arcade, and look! Look!"

Without warning, a hideous-looking _thing_ is shoved in his face. In fact, one of the thing's crooked horns is currently busy picking dirt out of his right nostril.

"It's a cow! Isn't it cute?" his sister squeals, wiggling the cow against his face, further enabling it to pick his nose for him. "He got this for me! He's so skilled!"

"It's ugly," Len tells her, humorlessly shoving the cow and his sister's hand away. Doesn't he always get her the cute ones when they visit the arcade?

"I'm so glad you think so, too!" Obviously his sister isn't listening to him as she continues to dance around their living room like a child who has had too much sugar. He wonders if this new boy has slipped his sister some kind of upper. Following that train of thought, he wonders if he can get away with killing him. In the middle of the night. With a shovel. And a hacksaw. And a lot of paper towels. The mess can be unimaginable.

A crash startles him out of his nefarious plotting, and he looks up to find his stupid sister flat on her back, hugging the table lamp to her chest, giggling like a maniac. The disfigured abomination of a toy she calls a cow lays a few feet away from her. She rolls one way, then another, and he is assured that she hasn't broken anything. Except maybe her common sense.

"Are you an idiot?" he asks as he gets up from the couch to help her sit up. He takes away the table lamp, righting it back in its proper place on the side table, and yanks her to a sitting position. "You could have cracked your skull. People die from things like that."

"I refuse to be a statistic of death by stupidity," his sister promptly announces. Giggle. Giggle. "Death by stupidity."

"Keep it up and you will be a statistic," Len rolls his eyes. He wishes to be anywhere else but here with her mooning over someone that isn't, well, himself. "Why are you acting like a dingbat?"

"Because!" she giggles, throwing herself onto his lap and hugging the breath out of him. "Len, Len, Len!" she squeals right in his ear, and he fears for his hearing. But he doesn't shove her off, because he has a feeling he might want to remain seated for what he is about to be told.

Her breath is warm as it puffs against the shell of his ear, and he feels her heart beating against his. For a moment, just for a moment, he enjoys the contact. He loves his sister, after all. She is important to him; like a precious talking, moving pet rock. Only she doesn't feel like a rock, no. To him she is soft, and warm.

"He kissed me," she whispers into the shell of his ear, her lips innocently brushing along his ear's sensitive cartilage.

His world freezes.

He doesn't feel the hugs she freely gives him, nor does he hear the rest of her inane ramblings. No. His precious sister has been kissed. Those lips that he has been entrusted to protect have been soiled by some randy, impertinent boy. Punishment needs to be meted out in great, violent proportions.

"Len?" his sister asks.

He needs to kill that boy.

"Len? Why do you look constipated?"

—

End.

I can't. Do. Incest. I have two brothers. I love them. They love me. I can't imagine incest scenarios knowing I have two good-looking brothers looking out for me even at this age. So enjoy that unnecessary fanservice I managed to insert there. Enjoy it.

Len's musings are more or less similar to my older brother's, cousins', and father's thoughts on me receiving my first kiss. Long ago. Being an only girl is, well...it's stressful. If you're an only girl, too, let me just tell you that it gets better as you grow older. Don't rebel; go along with their wishes for a good few years, then start cashing in on that obedience with little concessions. :P

These mini plots keep strutting into my brain. I guess I should be happy. Yay drabbles.

Disclaimer: Rin, Len [c] Crypton Future Media.

(_080911_)


	2. Idolized

Idolized  
><em>For <em>_**Luminous Snow**__. I got this idea from reading your message._

An unreasonably loud and frustrated groan reverberates throughout the living room, making Len look up from his book and frown at the lump of flesh that is his sister huddled on the floor. His sister has been alternately groaning and growling at her laptop screen for the past forty-five minutes, simultaneously disturbing him from his reading (Simon R. Green, if you must know); and Len highly values his reading time. He sighs in an exasperated manner, and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"What is it now?" he asks her. He may as well get it over with; the sooner he can help his sister, the sooner he can get back to following John Taylor through the Nightside.

"I've been searching," his sister grumbles unintelligibly, sending an obviously unwarranted scowl at the poor laptop screen. "I can't find it."

"Find what?" he asks.

"Good fanfiction," she growls.

Len sighs, leaning back against the couch. He marks the page on his book, and sets it down on his knee. "Why can't you just read books like a normal person?"

"But they're not funny enough! Or steamy enough! And they don't have Mori in it!" his sister wails. Obviously such criteria are critical for her literary enjoyment.

For a good few seconds, he watches his sister mumble to herself while paging through what he assumes is a fanfiction website. His gaze lowers to the book on his knee, and he picks it up. Does he enjoy this book, he wonders? Yes, he does. It has the right amount of suspense, mystery, and is written with a bit of humorous wit that he has come to appreciate.

Is it _steamy_? What constitutes as steamy, anyway?

Does it have a Mori in it? What the hell is a Mori?

He has obviously said that last part out loud, for suddenly his sister is lecturing him about the 'great and silent man' while kneeling between his legs, her hands gripping his knees. "How could you not know about Morinozuka Takashi?" she screeches. "He is the epitome of a strong and silent character. A boulder in a lone mountain. He's a giant, and at the same time he's gentle. And he's soooooo hot!"

Disregarding the fact that his question hasn't been answered at all, he lays an arm across his lap, frowning at his sister, who is now sporting a rather disturbing expression on her face. Len chalks it up to constipation. "What's so good about him, anyway?"

It's the wrong question to ask.

His sister launches forward, sprawling herself over the lower half of his body as she sends him the meanest death glare she can muster on her sweet face and says quite menacingly, "Mori is my ideal man. I want to jump his bones and tie him to my bed. For. Friggin'. Ever."

A muscle tics in Len's right eye. No. He is not getting creepy mental images about his sister and some 2D character doing the nasty on her bed. "You're gross," he says. "You should get a real man."

Again. It is the wrong thing to say.

Pain explodes in his gut as his sister jams her elbow in his middle. As he doubles over, painfully out of breath, he half-hears her screeching, "And where would I find one, huh? You're not even a real man, stuuuupid Niichan!"

The fatal words strike him a blow far worse than the elbow he has just received. He watches his sister pack up her laptop and run from the room, still calling him all sorts of names.

His ego lays in tatters on the floor. He has just lost against a fictional character.

—

End.

'Kay, so. I decided this will be my drabble dump for all things sibling!LenxRin. I need this kind of comic/stress relief while writing _Taking Your Picture_. (YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO READ ABOUT GUMI AND GAKUPO! YOU DO! YOU DO!) If you dear reader, find any of these funny or, well, the slightest bit amusing, I'll be happy.

I guess I'm accepting drabble writing prompts/challenges. If you have a sibling!LenxRin scene you want me to write, leave me a PM or a review here. An example prompt/challenge format I'd like to receive would be something like...

Prompt: Len and Rin fight over the last doughnut.  
><span>Requirements:<span> Must have the line "It's all going to your ass anyway!"  
><span>Bonus points:<span> Rin cries.

Or whatever. Yeah. Not sure how well this is going to work. But enjoy~

Disclaimer: Len, Rin [c] Crypton Future Media. John Taylor, Nightside [c] Simon R. Green. Morinozuka Takashi [c] Hatori Bisco.

(_081011_)


	3. Peeve

Peeve_  
>for anyone who has ever read fanfiction<em>

**o_renji:** Niichan!

**ba7:** How's New Zealand?

**o_renji: **Fine. We got to see the cows. There are so many!

**ba7:** I want butter.

**o_renji: **Stop. I can't bring that over customs.

**ba7:** What do you have for me then?

**o_renji:** Gossip!

**ba7:** ...

**o_renji:** Did you know that my friend got jilted at the alter and than went to run over the dude she was gonna merry?

**ba7:** Altar. Then. Marry.

**o_renji:** What?

**ba7:** Nothing. Continue.

**o_renji:** Yeah so anyway, what happened after that was like a scene out of a movie. She was all 'How could you? You asked me to merry you and you suddenly don't want to anymore? I'd rather go back home then to be with you ever again!'

**ba7:** Marry. Than.

**o_renji:** What the heck is you're problem, Niichan?

**ba7:** You. That's 'your' by the way.

**o_renji:** Well your being a jerk!

**ba7:** This is what you get for wasting your braincells on all that fanfiction. That's 'you're.'

**o_renji:** a;lksjfa;lsja;sldjf SEE IF I EVER BRING YOU ANYTHING FROM NEW ZEALAND! STUPID NIICHAN!

**o_renji is offline.**

Len leans back against the couch, smirking at the laptop screen as he signs off. "Come home already," he says to nobody.

—

End.

Orenji is 'orange.' 7 is 'nana' in Japanese. See, puns aren't fun if nobody gets them. Len's really turning out to be a supercilious bastard, isn't he? It's a complex for not being manly. Poor Len.

You guys gave me prompts and I didn't even look at them 'til now. D: Thank you, **kagaminevii**, thank you, **Laguzgirl13**! These are more opportunities to make Rin the crazy sister that she is. They'll be out over the next few hours/days depending on my inability to continue writing that other story.

Also, if the first two notes weren't very clear on the point, I'd like to reiterate that this sibling!LenxRin drabble dump will **not** have any romance/incest whatsoever. So please don't give me prompts that demand for it. This includes asking to write outside of the canon and pitting them as cousins or people who coincidentally look the same and have the same last name but aren't related at all. No. Len and Rin are obviously related by blood. I'd like to respect that.

(_081311_)


	4. Brother Complex

Brother Complex  
><em><strong>kagaminevii<strong>__'s prompt_

Rin always prides herself in practicality. She doesn't jump to conclusions until she has gathered enough evidence to formulate a reasonable enough suspicion. She doesn't overreact...much. Overall, she thinks she's better at keeping her composure than everyone else when it comes to such matters as...

"Hm? Then tomorrow at five? Yeah, she won't be here."

Her hearing zeroes in on the sound of her brother's voice from inside his room. Abandoning her trek to the kitchen for a glass of water, she carefully tiptoes closer to her brother's open door. No, she isn't being a nosy snoop. She's just curious, that's all.

"We'll get together, then," she hears her brother say. "Okay. Yeah, I'm excited, too. Bye."

Sounds of her brother moving around spurs her on towards the kitchen. It's not that she doesn't want to get caught; but that she needs time to absorb what she has just heard.

Her brother has made plans to meet somebody at five, at a time when she, Rin, won't be around. He is excited.

She slams her glass down a little too hard on the kitchen counter, and the bang seems to echo ominously in the silence afterward.

It's not that Rin is bothered that her brother is meeting someone. It's that her brother is meeting someone _after making sure she isn't around_. She glares at the glass as if it is the cause of her irritation. Why does her brother have to sneak around _her_, specifically?

"Are you all right?"

Rin whirls around at the sound of his voice and sees him standing by the doorway. He looks at her worriedly. "What's that look for?" he asks.

Ask him. Ask him. Ask him.

"Nothing," she says nonchalantly, leaning her hip against the counter behind her. "I just remembered I had to pick up something. Will you be doing anything tomorrow?"

"Nope. I can pick it up for you if you want."

YOU.

LIAR.

She turns around and fills her glass with water from the faucet. She doesn't think she can say anything longer than a "'kay," for fear that the lump in her throat will become more apparent.

No. She isn't overreacting.

The next day, Rin observes her brother far more closely than she usually does. Does he seem anxious? Is that a fidget? She stays to the last possible minute until she has to leave for her outing with Gumi.

Her brother doesn't even bid her goodbye.

She relays all this to Gumi, whom she acknowledges to be a fairly good judge of character, while they walk around the mall. Window shopping is a very calming pastime for one with frazzled nerves or sisterly suspicions. They practically go hand in hand.

"You say he's been acting funny since that phone call yesterday?" Gumi asks, touching a dainty fingertip to her lower lip.

"Yeah, and he lied about not having anything to do today."

"Maybe he just didn't deem this supposed secret meeting particularly important to share with you," Gumi says after a few moments of rational thinking.

"No. You don't get it. He LIED," Rin says, accompanying her apparently major divulgence with a wide sweep of her arm. She nearly decapitates someone while at it, not that she notices. "He never lies!"

Gumi, at this point, is tired of having to talk about the obviously small mole hill out of which her usually calm friend is making a mountain. She wants to talk about that knit sweater they just passed by a while ago. "Well, then he's seeing someone," the girl says with a calm finality.

Rin's brain fizzes out, which to Gumi, is a good thing. The green-haired girl can finally check out that sweater.

Rin returns later that night to find her brother relaxing on the couch with his laptop. At first she sees nothing wrong. Of course nothing's wrong. Her brother is just lounging on the couch, smiling so tenderly at his laptop like it's the most captivating thing in the world.

Staring at him so obviously in a bubble of contentment just. Friggin'. Gets. Her. Blood. Boiling.

Is he already mooning over someone? So soon? Or is she just now noticing the symptoms of something that has been going on for a long while?

Just.

No.

She stomps off to her room, ignoring her brother's calls for her to come back, and spends the rest of the night fuming under her bed covers.

Her brother can't possibly be seeing someone. It's her brother, for crying out loud. What is her brother in the face of so much good-looking men? Unless whoever it is has a thing for baby-faced dudes. ...ew. Gross. Oh, god, she just puked a little in her mouth. Who has fetishes like that anyway?

Rin doesn't bother to ask herself why she is bothered to such a degree that she loses a bit of sleep over things like these.

The following days fly by with Rin finding her brother in more or less the same situations. On Tuesday she happens to eavesdrop on another 'secret' conversation ("Can't, she's staying home today."; "I know, I want to meet, too. But it's hard to get her out of the house."). On Wednesday, she spies him wearing that same moony expression while ogling at his laptop screen. He is definitely mooning. It doesn't look at all like constipation. Thursday is a little embarrassing, since he manages to look up from his laptop just as she is looking at him.

"What?" he asks, a slight smile on his face.

"Nothing," she replies, and continues with her empty glass to the kitchen.

A noise behind her prompts her to turn around as she was filling her glass with water, and she sees her brother lean against the kitchen archway. "Will you be going out again tomorrow?" he asks once he realizes he has her attention.

Why? So he can ask his secret visitor to come over? Rin's hold on the glass tightens minutely.

"Yeah."

Somehow...seeing her brother look so happy and excited is upsetting her more and more. She's supposed to be happy for him. She's supposed to be supportive. She's his sister, after all. Aren't sisters supposed to cheer on their brothers when they find someone they like?

Again she shares this dilemma with Gumi the next day.

"Why does it piss me off to see him so happy?" Rin asks her eternally happy-go-lucky friend as they browse through racks of brightly colored tops. When in doubt with oneself, consult the racks. It helps the economy and drains your wallet!

"You mean, why are you pissed that he's moving forward with his life and is leaving you behind," Gumi says absently as she compares a lime green camisole and a billowy apricot lace top side by side. "Or why are you jealous that he's getting a girlfriend and is neglecting you? You have a serious complex, you know. Getting a boyfriend might fix that. Why don't you get one?"

Rin doesn't know what to say to that.

—

Len glances at the time on the upper right corner of his laptop and frowns. His sister is late in coming home. He checks his phone, which is laying innocently on the coffee table, but sees no new messages or calls. Worry starts to gnaw at his gut.

Just as he is about to place a call to his sister's phone, he hears her enter the front door and hurriedly sets his laptop aside. He gets up and walks down the short hall to the foyer where he sees his sister taking off her shoes.

"You're late," he says, causing her to stiffen and look over her shoulder at him. Her expression seems lost; in fact, her very posture screams vulnerability. It makes Len frown. "What's the matter?" he asks her. "Did something happen?"

She shakes her head but bites her lip; it is a characteristic sign that she is trying to hold something back. Frustration starts to seep into his words. "Out with it," he says sternly. "Something's obviously bothering you."

"Niichan..."

"What?"

"Niichan has a girlfriend."

"_What?_"

He can only stare at her incredulously as she raises her face. Her brows are knit together, her eyes large and watery. Her lips look like they have been gnawed on for a good few hours. The topic obviously bothers her a great deal. "Do you?" she asks.

"Of course not," he scoffs. "Where did you get that idea?" But before he even finishes talking, she is already shaking her head.

"You're lying again!" she exclaims. "You're meeting someone every time I go out and you keep chatting with them online and..."—"Our birthday."

She stops, stunned. "What?" she asks in a tiny voice.

"It's our birthday soon," he explains, reaching up to scratch his ear. He has been caught, anyway; he may as well let her know. "I was planning a surprise for you."

"But the calls and the computer..."

"I was consulting with someone about things you liked," he grumbles, embarrassed. "And I was looking at our pictures on the computer. We're growing up, you know. It feels sudden."

"So you don't have a girlfriend?"

"I don't."

"Oh," she finally calms down enough to sit down, her legs folding on either side of her. A blush rapidly spreads along her cheeks as she looks down at her knees, appalled at her irrationality.

"Tell you what," he says, kneeling down before her. She sneaks a glance at him, and he gives her a smile. "I promise I won't get a girlfriend until you get a boyfriend. Will this make you feel better?"

"Y-yeah..."

"Of course, your boyfriend will have to go through some tests before I'll allow him to date you. Okay?" Len smiles brightly at her, already plotting impossible tests for her future boyfriends.

Like how fast the boyfriend can dodge explosive projectiles and how durable he is wedged under a ten-ton truck. And how fast he can dig a hole and die in it. Of course, he doesn't tell his sister this. He is content to let her know that he loves her enough to look out for her best interests. After all, his sister can only be his sister for so long before someone snatches her away from him. He needs to enjoy whatever moment he has left with her.

"What kind of tests?"

"You don't need to know."

"'Kay. What about my surprise?"

"That's still a surprise."

—

End.

**kagaminevii**'s prompt: Rin jumps to conclusions about her brother having a secret girlfriend and gets jealous. Must have a heart-warming end.

Blaaaarg. It's not a drabble anymore. Forgive me. Is that heart-warming? D:

Writing about this reminded me of my freshman year in high school, when my brother who was already in college at the time got a girlfriend that I found out about. I remembered hating her even though I hadn't even met her yet. lol Brother complexes are adorable and irrational and stupid. ;A ;

The boyfriend test is a portion of what my brother, cousins, and father discussed among themselves when I reached dating age. They're cruel bastards.

As I was on my way to bed when inspiration bit me in the ass for this prompt, there might be some mistakes due to sleepiness. If you find 'em, feel free to point them out and I'll fix.

Hope you had fun reading~ Next up will be another user-submitted prompt: Borrowing without asking permission.

(_081411_)


	5. The Rattle Battle

The Rattle Battle  
><em><strong>Laguzgirl13<strong>__'s prompt_

"Na nana nana nanana~ Sheets of Egyptian cotton!"

"Rin, would you please shut up?"

"Na nana nana nanana~ Sheets of Egyptian cotton!"

"OI! SHUT UP!"

"Oh, hello Len! To what do I owe this pleasure of seeing you barge into my sacred sanctuary?"

"You're being too loud and I—is that my DSi?"

"Oh, this old thing? I just found it lying around and I wanted to play with it.."

"That's my DSi."

"I don't see your name on it."

"It's on the screen, you idiot!"

"You're not playing with it anyway!"

"Give it back!"

"No."

"Rin!"

"..."

"STOP PLAYING WITH IT AND GIVE IT BACK!"

"No! Go play with your other games, stupid Len!"

"I want to play with that!"

"What—just because you see someone playing with it now, you suddenly want it back? This was under the friggin' couch, Len!"

"I've been looking all over for that!"

"Liar! Now leave me alone, Bowser's come out again."

"WHAT—gah! Just you wait!"

_A minute later..._

"Oh Riiiin~"

"Pausing. All right. What now—What are you doing with my orange juice? Put that down. Don't drink from it. What are you doing? What are you—NO. NO. LEN. YOU ARE NOT HACKING A LOOGIE. PLEASE TELL ME YOU AREN'T ABOUT TO—AAAUUUUGGGHH! YOU JERK! NOT IN MY ORANGE JUICE! I'M GONNA KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!"

"We're related. Does that make you one, too?"

"AAAUUUGGHHH! GET OUT! GET OUT!"

"Don't you want your juice? Here, let me shake it up for you."

"THERE'S NO WAY I'M DRINKING THAT POISON! YOU MONKEY! GET BACK HERE!"

"You told me to get out, why are you following me—ow!"

"WHAT? ARE YOU GOING TO FLING POO NEXT? YOU JERK! IT'S JUST A STUPID GAME AND YOU RUINED MY JUICE! THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO LAST ME A WEEK!"

"You never asked permission!"

"IF YOU WANT IT SO BAD, FINE! FINE! HAVE IT BACK! UGH!"

"OUCH! You didn't have to hit me on the head with it! Hey! Don't slam doors!"

_Another minute later..._

"RIN! YOU SAVED YOUR GAME IN MY SLOT!"

—

End.

**Laguzgirl13**'s prompt: Rin borrows a game from Len without permission, resulting in a large row wherein Len either bribes or tricks Rin into giving back said game or Rin gets their parents' sympathy to let her continue playing it.

I went with the trickery, it's so much fun. =u = I wanted to try something I haven't done in a long while: writing in descriptive dialogue. I've forgotten how fun it is to do especially with comedic situations.

I was going to hold off on writing this, because I wanted to write that other story first, but blarg. Whatevs. Thank you for the favs and the alerts and the reviews! I never thought other people would actually appreciate drabble dumps; I'm glad you do! Hope you enjoyed reading!

Disclaimer: Len, Rin [c] Crypton Future Media. _Sheets of Egyptian Cotton_ is a song thing from that weird movie Uptown Girls. _Rattle Battle_ is a nod to the original mischievous twins Dee and Dum who both belong to Lewis Caroll.

(_082011_)


	6. Surprise

Surprise  
><em>my weird interpretation for <em>_**Luminous Snow**_

Len had a feeling he was being watched.

This feeling had started over a week ago, really. He had just been watching TV, his lips curling in amusement over stand-up comedy, when the fine hairs at the back of his neck stood and a chill spread down his back. It had felt like a pair of eyes were boring into the back of his skull.

It had been an unsettling feeling, especially since the couch he had been sitting on at the time was pushed up against the living room wall.

From then on the chills and raised hairs had prevailed. Take Monday, for example: He had been in the bathroom, taking his early morning leak, when the cold wash of being watched prickled the area between his shirt-covered shoulder blades and ruined the steady stream of urine splashing into the toilet bowl. Indeed, it had been as if someone had taken a stopper to his urinary tract. Len had never been so dissatisfied so quickly and so early in the morning, as it had always been his morning routine to successfully excrete his morning waste without interruption.

(That too gross? Nah. Natural bodily functions are perfectly normal topics of everyday conversation.)

Another instance had happened on Tuesday, when Len was enjoying his afternoon snack. The boy had a secret appreciation for strawberry shortcake, and always ate the strawberry topping last. He had been about to fork the fleshy, juicy fruit into his waiting mouth when he felt unease blanket his back. It had been so sudden, so intense, that his body gave an involuntary jolt. It had been unfortunate that the action sent his precious fresh strawberry flying out the open kitchen window to the streets below. Len had never been the same since.

Len's confidence steadily dwindled with every day that passed that, when Sunday came, he was reduced to a raw bundle of nerves It was such a severe difference that his sister likened him to a rain-soaked, mangy alley cat with a fear of sudden noises.

"It's not funny," Len grumbled, gripping the television remote control with a vise fist.

They were once again in the living room; Len was attempting to watch TV. His sister was, as per becoming increasingly usual, picking on his 'scaredy-cat sensibilities' as she so lightly put it.

"Of course it is," his sister burbled with mirth at the expense of his ego. "You've never been afraid of anything until now."

"But these _feelings_," he scowled at her altogether too-cheerful expression. "I feel like I stepped into a murder thriller—like everyone else but me sees the killer stalking me."

"And because you're the dorky Asian, you'll get killed first?" her sister teased, and squealed as she ducked a thrown cushion. "Are your days numbered, Niichan?" Giggles!

"No, the youngest always gets killed first," Len growled, leaning back against the couch to throw more cushions at his crazy sister. "That's how most plots go."

"Sure, sure," were his sister's last gleeful words before she ducked out of the living room to avoid his projectiles.

—(screw the transitional paragraph)

Len was jolted out of the couch by a loud bang from somewhere within the house. He landed ungainly on the floor, bruising his left elbow in the most painful manner possible. Had he fallen asleep for this long? What time was it? He slowly sat up, only just then realizing that the entire house was dark. Faux evening light streamed in from the curtained windows, casting everything into sharp, threatening shadows. His heart lurched uncomfortably. It wasn't an ideal situation to wake up to.

He called for his sister, gingerly getting up, heading towards the dark rectangle that was the way leading to the hall. As he reached the threshold, his hand absently reached up to the light switch on the other side of the wall.

The dim orange of the overhead light did little to ease his creeping nerves, especially when it immediately started blinking and fluttering. Len vaguely remembered his sister mentioning the other day that the hall bulb needed replacing, and inwardly cursed himself for not getting around to it. Sparing one wary glance at the flickering bulb, he continued down the hallway, his ears straining for any kind of sound that proved he wasn't alone. It came after a few more steps in the direction of the bedrooms.

A faint strain of music drifted from within his sister's room; an eerie and seemingly discordant waltz, its melody haunting in the solitariness of the piano from which it was produced. It was off—it would play a few seconds, then it would skip and repeat itself again. It was as if the track was defective, or disturbed.

Why wasn't his sister fixing it?

Len cautiously closed his hand around the doorknob, calling out for his sister again before twisting it open and pushing his way inside the room. He immediately stopped, his heart rate speeding up at the sight that greeted him. His sister's room was in shambles. His hand immediately rose to the light switch by the doorway, flicking it on. But no light came. Her bedside table was overturned; her bedsheets were in disarray, her pillows carelessly strewn across the floor to nestle among her other toppled belongings. Her lamp was on its side and on the floor and, lying upside down beside it, was the multifunction music player drunkenly playing the same four, five measures of the waltz again and again. It looked like there had been a struggle—his eyes immediately locked on a sick-looking puddle coming from under the misaligned bed. The puddle was dark in the dim light; he was afraid to find out what it was.

But he needed to. His sister was gone, and he was alone in the house. It was his responsibility.

Len slowly eased forward, crouching down close to the puddle. He felt a sick sort of apprehension as he started to bend down and see what was under the bed.

Just then, the light in the hallway sputtered and finally guttered out, sending everything into darkness. Len gasped at the change in lighting, his eyes widening uselessly in an attempt to absorb any available photons to decipher his surroundings. His sister's room had no windows, something Len was mentally cursing up and down as he stayed crouched by the bed, his body frozen with fear. He was unable to move.

The haunting waltz, skipping and endlessly repeating, was starting to get to him. Sweat started breaking out over his brow, his heart pumping adrenaline throughout his body as the familiar and eerie chill started sliding down his unguarded back. It was behind him, whatever it was. He was sure. He was going to die.

—

"And then," his sister continued breathlessly, her giggles so high-pitched that they were inaudible. "And then, I jumped on him"—"Screaming like a banshee," Len added piteously.—"and knocked him into the warm syrup. He was screaming like this strangled little castrato, 'Idon'twannadiepleasedon'tkillmeIdon'twannadieyoukilledmysister!' I think," she gasped, trying to regain breath enough to continue, "I think he even cried a little."

They were sitting at the bar, surrounded by giggling friends. The guys laughed openly at Len's expense while the girls halfheartedly cooed their sympathies amid crookedly smothered smiles and delicate coughs.

"Rinrin, you make one heck of a stalker," Gumi praised. "Please teach me."

"Sure," his sister grinned.

"I can't believe she even stalked you to the bathroom," Kaito said, smacking his lips in distaste.

"Well, she's dedicated," Len grumbled grudgingly, closing his hand around his drink.

"And that was only for your birthday," the blue-haired man continued. ("YEAH, THAT'S WHAT YOU GET FOR SCARING THE CRAP OUT OF ME WITH YOUR REAL FAKE GIRLFRIEND, LEN!" cried his sister from somewhere down the bar.) "What would she do for your bachelor party?"

"Dude, that's a hundred years too soon to be talking about that."

—

End.

**Luminous Snow**'s original prompt: to make a sequel one-shot for the 'surprise' mentioned in _Brother Complex_ (4th one-shot in this collection). ...But Rin refused to be one-upped. =u =; I'm sorry.

I wrote this all while I was in the Tête-à-Tête state of mind, so yeah; the bar they're at is the bar in Tête-à-Tête. I'm not saying that the Lens and Rins in this one-shot collection are all at the same older age, though.

Is the alone scene scary/unsettling/disturbing/creepy/weird? I need feedback—I've no idea how to write 'horror.' The creepy waltz I wrote about is one of the pieces from Tchaikovsky's Opus 40.

Next up will be another user-submitted prompt: grilling the potential boyfriend! Thank you for reading! *U *

P.S – No, NO, and NOO. I refuse to approach the subject of marriage or engagement in relation to one or both of the twins.

P.P.S – omgomgomg ffnet just told me I reached the 15-document limit for the document manager. O: I haven't been this active since, well, _never_. YAY VOCALOID!

P.P.P.S - If you pronounced 'Surprise' as 'surpreeeeze,' HIGH FIVE, MAN! Count Olaf's been rampaging in my brain.

Disclaimer: Len, Rin, Kaito [c] Crypton Future Media. Gumi [c] Internet Co. Ltd.

(_082911_)


	7. The Boyfriend?

The Boyfriend?_  
>AnimaniacXOX's prompt<em>

He stands at an impressive 180 cm, and looms behind the cheerful yellow-haired midget as the door opens and they enter. Len doesn't hear what his sister says, though her lips move nonstop for a good while; his attention is thoroughly captured by the pair of fierce golden eyes rooting him to the spot with their hawk-like gaze. Seventy kilograms of lean muscle crosses the threshold of the Kagamine home, bringing with it an air of electric tension.

Has his sister brought home a gangster? (The boy's impeccably-gelled, sharp russet spikes seem to support Len's theory on the boy's character.)

"We'll be in the living room, okay?" his sister says as she passes him by with barely a blink in his direction. The hulking mass of silent teenager called a boy follows after her, though his eyes track Len's until they pass each other by. Len is suddenly reminded of a documentary he watched the other day, wherein a cheetah purposefully stalks its prey—he feels like prey to those sharp eyes.

Who is that boy? His sister seems very close with him (just his imagination). Left alone in the foyer, Len's mind starts to reel uncomfortably. How can his sister bring home a boy, much less a very dangerous-looking boy, and take him to the living room like it's nothing unusual? Can they possibly be doing something they aren't supposed to, right this minute, in the living room?

A chill washes down his spine as his mind is bombarded with unwanted images of his sister being assaulted by the hormone-laced giant.

This isn't happening.

Len runs into the living room, gasping his sister's name. He stops at the archway, hands scrabbling to find purchase on the simple wood molding, as his seeking gaze only finds the tall boy seated at the coffee table. The teen turns at the noise, large hands pausing in their movements from arranging papers and a textbook on the table's sleek surface. The items look innocent enough, as school things usually are, but the pen in the boy's hand seems deadly. Maybe it is due to the fact that the boy in question is holding said pen like a weapon.

Len blanches at the sight. It cannot be counted against him or his worth as a man that he takes an involuntary step back for the sake of self-preservation. Do you want to be stabbed to death by a pen? No? Well, there you go.

"Sorry," Giant Boy grunts, or at least it is what Len is able to decipher from the grunt. He watches the man-boy set the pen-weapon down on the table, and releases a sigh of relief.

Yes, darlings, Giant Boy looks that dangerous. Although he isn't built like a wrestler, that doesn't mean he doesn't have muscles—and, oh, are those corded things powerful enough to crush the diminutive Asian boy into a pulp. Poor baby.

"Where's my sister?" the smaller boy finally manages to ask as he slowly inches his way to the couch, curiously trying to put as much space between himself and the tall teen sitting on the floor.

"Changing," Giant Boy grunts. He reaches for the textbook and opens it.

A few moments pass before Len asks, "So what's your name?"

Two things happen at once: Len realizes he is making small-talk, and Giant Boy laughs. Derisively.

"Are you gay?" the tall boy smirks. "Sorry to break it to you, but I don't swing that way." It's the most the boy has spoken since setting foot in the twins' home. His voice is a deep and smooth bass; and it is surprising because it doesn't match his rough appearance. It is the voice of an adult—which is actually scary in itself coming from the lips of a rude and offensive (and ruggedly handsome) teenager.

Of course Len has to defend his masculinity (even though it's apparent to everyone reading this that he's got nothing on the gangster lookalike). "Since when does asking for a name make someone gay?" he splutters elegantly.

Smooth.

"Since the person asking happens to be a fidgety girl," Giant Boy dryly answers. Humor dances in his golden eyes. Len is not amused.

"I am not a girl," he says. Or growls. Take your pick.

"Your sister seems to think you are," Giant Boy counters.

"And what are you to my sister?" Len challenges. He doesn't realize that he has gotten to his feet; he doesn't even realize that his hands have curled into fists at his sides, as if expecting the conversation to come to blows any minute soon.

Giant Boy observes this, and slowly stands to meet Len's silent challenge. Both boys meet toe to toe, and the overwhelming contrast of their height is thrown into sharp relief. Len may very well be facing the boy's solar plexus—well, he silently takes comfort in the fact that he can maybe head-butt the boy breathless...hopefully before said boy smashes him. Anyway, getting back to the showdown.

Amber eyes narrow down on cerulean, and Giant Boy rumbles, "Wouldn't you like to know?" It is clear that he is trying to get a rise out of Len, if only to see how the boy is like, but Len doesn't realize this. You see, his world has narrowed down into a kind of tunnel vision at the end of which is his sister's virtue. It's a very, very cramped tunnel.

—

"So Giant Boy kills him," the man finished, smirking amid severe booing and tossed peanuts from his companions surrounding him.

"Speaking about yourself in third person shows signs of mental illness, you know," advised Meiko wisely just before taking a deep swig from the gallon jug of sake in her possession.

"I'll take your advice once I know you're sober, love," the russet-haired man returned with good humor and a sardonic grin, trailing callused fingertips along the underside of the brunette's chin. He nearly received a peanut up his nose for his impudence.

"Giant Boy? Seriously, Al?" tittered a pink-haired vixen behind dainty fingertips as the man named Al rubbed his nose clean of peanut salt.

"Blame it on the kids who started it," the big man raised his palms in surrender.

"Continue!" someone called out. More peanuts were thrown in serious agreement for Al to get on with the story.

—

Before either boy can come to their senses, they are thrown into an intense battle of wills the likes of which none of them have ever experienced before. Molten gold locks onto stormy sea green as one attempts to beat down the other by sheer force of will. It is a physical and mental test of courage and a measure of one's ability to fight the temptations of ADD. Who will win?

For the passing five minutes, nobody seems to know; and it is the longest five minutes in the history of inordinately stretched time.

A twitch here.

A wince there.

A passing growl.

A returning snarl.

At last one of them speaks.

"Are you going out with my sister?" Len asks. The strain is evident in his voice.

"Who wants to know?" Giant Boy challenges.

"I do!" A formidable scowl appears on the smaller boy's face. It almost makes him seem capable of doing great violence unto the other boy. "If you lay a hand on her, I swear I'll...I'll..."

The taller boy merely smirks down at him, and somehow, it is enough to send Len off the edge. With a burst of unrestrained, primal strength, the slight boy launches himself at the giant and tackles him to the ground.

...only to be hauled off and punched in the jaw.

When the smoke clears, both boys are sitting up on the floor, facing a tiny but angry girl. Her sea green eyes flash ferociously in warning against any move, and Len realizes that she has just punched him.

He.

Len.

Punched.

By his sister.

His.

Sister.

Aren't there laws in place against brutality towards one's own twin? This is not fair.

He clamps his mouth shut as he realizes he has said his thoughts out loud.

"Well, you should have realized how stupid you were behaving towards _my_ guest," his sister replies, taking one threatening step in Len's direction. He shrinks away from her with a wince, gingerly rubbing his aching jaw. It isn't easy to forget a punch, especially when its evidence is making your head throb.

"But"—

She shushes him with a sharp hand gesture, and surprisingly, he shuts up. Giving him the meanest glare she can muster (and trust me, it's a very wicked one), his sister points to the doorway.

Len's jaw drops (and throbs). "Seriously?" he asks.

"Get out," she says in a low voice.

"You can't be serious," he insists.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I'm serious," she returns.

"I'm your brother!" he argues.

"All the more reason for you to get out of my sight." His sister stomps her foot down.

"But he's a gangster!"

Forgotten on the floor, the tall boy coughs to hide a laugh; but the action catches the attention of the yellow-haired girl, and it brings a flush of embarrassment to her cheeks. She turns back to Len, a slipper miraculously appearing in her hand, and whacks him out of the living room.

"I can take care of myself, stupid Len!"

—

Screw this drabble. Let's leave it open-ended. End.

**AnimaniacXOX**'s original prompt: Rin brings home a Vocaloid boy for a study session, and while away Len grills the boy with impossible questions. I chose the most impossible Vocaloid. :'D

LONG LIVE BIG AL! *insert lots of hearts and fangirliness here* He is 193 cm (6'4" to you other peoples) at his official age, I just compensated for his teenage years. *swoon* !

Sorry for dropping off the radar. I had to surface to the real world for srs bsns. If it seems like the narration is switching from Len's POV to the bodiless narrator's (aka Al's) POV, I'm also sorry.

I hope you enjoyed this! Thank you for reading! :D


End file.
